<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>(We Are) In Progress by ThatFeanorian</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919630">(We Are) In Progress</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian'>ThatFeanorian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To Build The Bonds That Tie [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Brotherly Affection, Depression, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, I cried while writing this, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Relationship Discussions, Russingon, Snippits of life, Suicide Attempt, Thangorodrim, Waking up in the same bed, daily life, everything is happy and good and if it isn't then we'll make it that way, except in a modern au??, my babies deserve to have long and happy lives together, my two gay babies, oblivious idiots, proposal, really fleshing out the depth of Mae's self loathing in like 2 sentances and then fixing everything, sleeping together but literally, so much fluff it's rediculous, so much love and affection here, suicical thoughts tw, these fools are so in love, they're really just stupidly in love and that's beautiful</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:55:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros does not love Fingon. He can not. He will not.</p><p>But Fingon loves Maedhros anyways.</p><p>How Maedhros and Fingon learn what they mean to each other and the world through trial and error and unnumbered tears.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aredhel &amp; Fingon | Findekáno, Caranthir | Morifinwë &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Celegorm | Turcafinwë &amp; Fingon | Findekáno, Celegorm | Turcafinwë &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Curufin | Curufinwë &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno &amp; Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë, Fingon | Findekáno &amp; Turgon of Gondolin, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Maedhros | Maitimo &amp; Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo &amp; Sons of Fëanor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To Build The Bonds That Tie [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Running</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Maedhros and Fingon, some fluff, some happiness, some background angst.</p><p>I thought we could all use a little Russingon happiness so that's what we're doing. Obviously, Mae is Mae, so there will inevitably be angst, but the big idea is maybe some positivity. Warnings for anxiety (what else is new?) and gay slurs (not used in any positive light)</p><p>Ages here are:<br/>Maedhros - 17 (almost 18)<br/>Fingon - 14</p><p>Your comments are my motivation, it means so much to me that people are enjoying this and looking for more, so this one's for you guys ♥︎♥︎♥︎</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fingon comes to their house three days a week. There is no predicting which three they will be, nor what time he might arrive; he simply appears at their door, sweating from the heat, and drops his bag inside the door without a second thought, yelling out Maedhros’s name and a thousand questions all at once. </p><p>“Can you help me with… ?”</p><p>“Guess what happened… ?”</p><p>“Did you know that… ?”</p><p>“Can we… ?” Sometimes Maedhros wonders how he possesses the apparently inexhaustible ability to talk, a grin stretched across his face and full to the brim with excitement over the latest events of his life. It is unbearably hot every day, even the rain feeling much too warm for comfort, and Maedhros is not sure how Fingon finds the fortitude to make the sizable journey to their house. Still, he is thankful Fingon does; his presence and stubborn optimism are just enough to keep the constant panic in his mind away. College is just nine weeks away, then eight, then seven… Maedhros is not sure how he would survive without Fingon to distract him with laughter and bubbling energy that refuses to be dampened. </p><p>Fingon sits in the middle of Maedhros’s room, completely at home among the wreck of almost-eighteen years of accumulated junk which must now all be sorted and counted as Maedhros slowly works through the piles of drawings, old mementoes, and memories of years he would rather forget. All of it seems precious now, none of it something he would leave behind. </p><p>“Maitimo, can we go out by the lake?” Fingon is staring at him shrewdly as if he too can hear Maedhros’s internal count down, every second slipping through his fingers like sand. Outside, the waves of heat are almost palpable, keeping even Celegorm confined to the cool depths of the indoors, but Maedhros has yet to learn how to refuse Fingon anything he asks for.</p><p>Besides, outside he can pretend that college is not real. Outside, he can imagine himself in another world where not a soul exists beyond himself and his cousin. He nods and leads the way downstairs and through the wall of heat that marks the barrier between their kitchen and the world beyond. Down the sun-baked path and under the trees by the edge of Lake Mithrim, the air is cooler than under the bright sunlight of their yard. It seems a small oasis, birds singing where their neighbours have given up, fish jumping up and out of the water to catch flies lazing above its surface, and Fingon, who bounces along beside him as if the warmth of the air is nothing, tossing rocks far out over the water and chattering away,</p><p>“Irisse broke two of her teeth the other day falling out of a tree but Dad says she’s just lucky it wasn’t her arm… Did you know Turno is going to a summer math camp? Can you imagine anything more boring?... Mom says that we might be able to get a new cat since the old one disappeared in the woods.” All Maedhros has to do is nod along, laugh at the right moments, and allow himself to be carried away by Fingon’s cracking halfway-through-puberty voice which somehow has retained all of its joyful carefreeness. </p><p>For him, the remaining weeks must seem so long, Maedhros muses, wishing he could feel the same, high school does not weigh on Fingon’s shoulders as college does on Maedhros’s. He is free to laugh and run and throw stones without any fear of what is to come. Perhaps that is another thing Maedhros loves about Fingon, his ability to live as he is, at the moment, happy with what is happening and unconcerned with the future. It is only when silence falls that Maedhros looks over and sees a small frown on Fingon’s face. Leaning over to nudge his cousin, he asks,<br/>
“Hey, what’s up? I don’t think I’ve heard you silent once in at least three weeks.” Fingon cracks a smile at that and lifts his blue eyes to meet Maedhros’s,</p><p>“Nothing. I’m fine. Just listening to…” he motions around himself, and Maedhros nods, knowing exactly what Fingon is referencing. In the slight breeze that always seems to come off the lake, vibrant trees rustle above them and the hum of insects fills the air. Mithrim has always felt like a hidden secret, a little portal into a faraway world that Maedhros somehow has managed to acquire direct access to in his backyard. Fingon grabs a rock, tossing it out over the water, where it lands with a splash, sending ripples out until they melt into the natural current and disappear. Fingon’s eyes are still clouded, though now there is more effort put into his smile.</p><p>“Finno, no,” He presses gently, unlacing his shoes and stepping into the still-cold water of the lake, “You don’t have to tell me, I mean, I don’t wanna push you into anything if you don’t want to but --but if I could help maybe?” Maedhros winces slightly even as the words come out of his mouth. He had a plan, just moments ago, but somehow it seems to have vanished as soon as the words reached his tongue. Fingon follows Maedhros’s example, dumping his shoes on the short rocky beach as well and joining Maedhros in the cool water. Shrugging, he turns those bright blue eyes upwards --even more brilliant than the sky above them, Maedhros thinks-- and stares at the back-lit emerald leaves above them, glowing like jewels in front of the sun,</p><p>“I don’t think you’d understand like you’re technically in college now, and I’m just--” he shrugs again, and Maedhros raises an eyebrow,</p><p>“Do you really think me ‘technically being in college’ makes any difference what so ever? I haven’t even figured out what I want to be learning.” This is another thing, Maedhros reminds himself, that he has yet to do, another goal he hasn’t reached, another reminder pushed to the side so he can entertain the fantasy they are pretending is real down here by the lake.  </p><p>“No, Maitimo, you’re smart and really nice and talented and gorgeous--” he blushes, “I --I mean like objectively-- and I’m just me. Everybody looks up to you, ‘cause you’re always are the best at everything. I mean, you’re perfect; there’s no way you’d get it.” </p><p>Perfect. Maedhros has never been perfect, at least, not perfect enough for it to mean anything. Every time one of his brothers cried, every time Celegorm came into the house trailing works and nursing an ignored broken bone, every time Caranthir frowned, or Maglor gave up, or Junior hid because being the youngest wasn’t enough… </p><p>Maedhros has never been perfect before, but Fingon doesn’t know that. Fingon sees what Maedhros gives him, some perfect pretend person who somehow covers up everything that is broken inside of him. Some character that isn’t a loser, who’s family has never been disappointed in him; maybe even someone who was never called ‘deviant’ or a ‘fag’ or a thousand other words that Maedhros knows shouldn’t hurt him but do. <br/>
There is a hand on his wrist and Maedhros flinches, pulling back instinctively before he realizes that it is just Fingon. </p><p>“Mae?” He asks softly, “Did --did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to --to --to--”</p><p>“No!” He is quick to respond, the words coming from his suddenly dry throat as heavy as if they themselves were stones, no different than the ones below their feet,</p><p>“No. It wasn’t your fault, I was just —Findekáno,, I’m not perfect. At all.”Fingon shakes his head vehemently, his fingers tightening around Maedhros’s wrist, but he continues, cutting off Fingon’s retort before it begins,</p><p>“Just… hear me out, okay? I don’t know what you don’t think I’d get, but I can tell you what I’ve figured out; There’s a whole lot of shit out there that people say, and most of it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just there to take up space. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt us, because it does. Even if we don’t want it to.</p><p>“But even if the shit is taking up so much space you can’t even hear anything good, I’m here. I’ll always be here to say something good. Everybody needs someone like that, my brothers, you, Irisse, Turukáno, ‘ya know?” Fingon is silent for a moment, his eyes still raised to the sky above him, and Maedhros is torn between feeling extremely dumb and being relieved that someone finally knows because even if he has not said anything outright, he has said it all in the most upfront way that he probably ever will. </p><p>“Thanks, Mae,” Fingon says softly, his eyes not moving, “Do you have a person?” Maedhros turns away as Fingon’s gaze finally falls from the sky, resting instead on his as he leads the way back to the trail, grabbing his shoes in one hand and waiting for Fingon to follow him.</p><p>“Nah, I don’t need one.” He says, quirking his mouth into a smile that still somehow feels natural, just as long Fingon is there beside him. </p><p>“Sure you do, you said everyone needs one.” Maedhros lets out a whoosh of air, the truth, he reminds himself, today we’re doing the truth. </p><p>“Nobody should have to worry about me.” He says, and Fingon makes a face at him, somewhere between exasperation and disgust,</p><p>“If you’re my person, maybe I could be yours?” Fingon, thirteen, perfect, wonderful and happier than Maedhros has ever felt in his life. </p><p>“Yeah, sure,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound too happy.</p><p>“Just for the record, I’m glad you’re my friend.” </p><p>“Me too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>suicidal thoughts tw, almost attempted suicide as well. I was so wrong to think I could write happy things... I mean it ends happy/bittersweet so maybe I get points for that?</p><p>Maedhros + Fingon, in which Mae is the epitome of self-projection and Thangorodrim and Maedhros' death scene somehow take place at the same time despite this being a modern AU, and miraculously everyone comes out alive. </p><p>In other words, How Maedhros and Fingon finally started dating.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Maedhros is 26 and Fingon is 22 here</p><p>This one is pretty dark and I cried almost non-stop while writing it, so I am sorry for everything, now go enjoy and read.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are a thousand and one times Maedhros has not had the words to confront the world around him. So many moments in time where he did not know or there simply were no words to explain who he is and how he feels and why he wants to hide somewhere far away where he can pretend that the rest of the world is not real. Language seems to have an explanation for everything but him.</p><p>Seven words are all it takes to break him and as Maedhros lies on his face on the bed, he knows he really has broken. Above him, his father rubs soothing circles on his back, convinced that this is nothing more than pre-exam nerves and inside of Maedhros something has splintered in the general area of his ribcage which leaves each breath painful and futile.</p><p>“I am proud of you, so proud, and I know that college seems hard right now but Nelyo, I know you. You have all the tools you will ever need right now. All you have to do is make the choice to reach out and choose one. No project would ever be finished if the craftsman didn’t pick up his tools.” Maedhros is silent, his face pressed deep into his pillow like a child as if this will make his mind stop screaming or will reorder the chaos which he is unable to contain any longer.</p><p>Maybe somewhere, in the depths of his mind, Maedhros really is worried about law school, his grades and his classes, how to survive and how to live without four brothers who need his love every day, but mostly, he feels like a liar. Here, his father spending time to love him and Maedhros? Maedhros is lying to his face, pretending to panic over his law degree while really debating the pros and cons of hiding forever in the woods. He is a liar, he has never been worth his parents’ loves and Fëanor’s hand on his shoulder is too heavy.</p><p>“Thanks, Dad,” Maedhros mumbles and out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father’s face relax into a relieved smile. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Maitimo, you’re going to be fine.” He says, patting Maedhros’ shoulder as he stands, the bed sinking very slightly beneath Maedhros as his father exits the room. </p><p>Those fatal seven words; sent from Fingon's phone not long after Maedhros had dropped him off at his house the night before tipsy and flushed from the accidental maybe on purpose kiss Maedhros had given him.</p><p>‘So can I call you my boyfriend?’</p><p>yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. </p><p>Maedhros wants to write it out a thousand times and mail each one, to run downstairs and stand in the front hall yelling it until Celegorm throws a dumbbell at him. All the yesses are piled up in his throat, waiting for some undetermined sign that they can spill out the way they want to, flying through the air until they reach Fingon. he can’t. He shouldn’t. He could. </p><p>Was Fingon serious? Does he even remember asking?</p><p>It is entirely possible that he was joking or perhaps a little drunker than Maedhros had realized when he drove the two of them home. It is entirely possible that Fingon  woke up and didn't remember everything, or even worse remembered and regretted the question. Perhaps it would just be better to ignore it, to text back with a different topic or perhaps a question of his own which would drive the conversation away and give Fingon  the opportunity to pretend that nothing ever happened.</p><p>But he wants to say yes so badly. </p><p>It is wrong, Maedhros knows he is not enough for his beautiful cousin. Fingon's warm brown skin and bright blue eyes and endless supply of compassion will always outstrip by a thousand times what Maedhros deserves. His room feels too crowded, the walls pushing inwards with the heat of the summer air beyond, and Maedhros doesn’t realize he is moving until he is out the door and piling himself into his car. Keys in the ignition, car in forwards gear, Maedhros tears out of the driveway and northwards where at least there are hills (and even a small mountain) which can hide him until his mind feels like less of an endless maze.</p><p>He walks for what seems like hours, up and up and up until the ground falls away abruptly in front of him and everything is silent except for the wind and a single bird who sings in a gentle coo from the trees behind him. Cold mountain air stings his sweaty face and Maedhros feels as if when he looks down he can see the empty space below get heavier, moister, hotter. Above, there is open sky, a world of possibilities and joys which Maedhros will never manage to grasp. It is a long way down over the edge the open cliffside, but Maedhros looks down at the tiny trees below with curiosity. How long would it take to fall, he wonders, would the end be worth the terror of diving downwards through open air? The top of the mountain is a wonderful place, but any direction he chooses will inevitably lead downwards, whether that is over the cliff or back down the trail into a world where he is not worth being loved. </p><p>He doesn’t know which is worse, descending back into the oppressive silence of unspoken words or jumping, yelling those words to the sky and knowing that it doesn’t matter because he will not live long enough to reap their consequences. </p><p>Can I call you my boyfriend?</p><p>Maedhros pulls his phone out of his pocket and glares at it, tears welling up in his eyes as he hurls it over the edge, throwing the device far out over the tiny trees below and watching as it flies, shimmering in the bright sunlight like a shooting star and speeding back towards the earth.</p><p>Maedhros is filled with so much hatred and fear and longing that he isn’t sure whether it is he who moves his body or those emotions as they worm their way into his skin like some large parasite, reducing him to flesh and bone with no mind of his own. Feanor is wrong. Maedhros does not have any of the tools he needs to live, he is not good enough for his father nor his mother nor Fin, who must be joking because how could someone so beautiful and good want a disgusting broken creature like Mae? He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. Maedhros takes a step forwards, looking down over the edge at the green trees below him, at the sheer grey cliffside and then up, at the blue sky above him. It is intense, beautiful, almost electrifying and too bright in its pure colour, and Maedhros can’t look. It is too much, he has to--</p><p>“Nelyo! You never... Nelyo?” Maedhros knows that voice but he cannot look back from the edge, it is so far below, calling softly to him, and he should jump because Fingon  should not have to see him like this. Fin’s voice should not be able to switch from playfully exasperated to terrified that quickly, but Maedhros can’t control it. His legs are shaking and the world around him is blurry and too bright...</p><p>He is going to fall. He is going to jump. The world is gone and he has no anchor and he is floating out and away. </p><p>“Nelyo,” Fin’s voice is so scared and small, and Maedhros can finally feel something; a small calloused hand is gripping his larger one. “Can you c’ mere please?” Maedhros nods, still unable to see and stumbles backwards, feeling the ground rushing up to meet him and there is earth beneath his feet and he has tripped, fallen backwards, and he can feel himself pulling Fingon with him until the earth is beneath his back and forearms and he can feel Fin, wonderfully solid and warm as he lands on Mae’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. It hurts and he cannot breathe, and Fingon  is scrambling away, voice panicked as he asks,</p><p>“God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” and Maedhros still doesn’t have the words to answer but the sky is blue above him, the same bright blue is Fin’s eyes, and it hurts so badly to look up into his cousin’s face, so instead he cries. </p><p>I would have jumped.<br/>
The words he needs but cannot find. </p><p>I love you.<br/>
The words he needs but cannot say. </p><p>I need you to make me feel safe again.<br/>
The words that he knows are true but would never admit to Fingon who is still younger than he and still finding joy in the world. </p><p>Perhaps the tears he cries are joy, to know that Fingon is still clutching his hand and the earth is beneath him and every breath still hurts. Better pain and love and hatred than the nothingness on which he was floating away. </p><p>He sits up, his hands grabbing the first solid thing he can find (Fingon) and Maedhros holds his cousin so tight to his chest that Fingon lets out a small noise of surprise and protest before relaxing against him. There are arms around him, and the earth below him and he finally feels grounded again as his tears slide over his temples and up into his hair. </p><p>“Nelyo,” Fingon whispers again, his voice still wobbling and petrified, “You scared me.”</p><p>“I know.” Maedhros’ voice is cracking, dry and hoarse, utterly unrecognizable as his own. There is so much more he wants to say, but somehow those words still don’t make enough sense in the inky emptiness inside him. </p><p>“‘M sorry, Finno.” He mumbles, and Fingon pulls backwards glaring at him,</p><p>“You’re not allowed to do that, okay? Never. You’re supposed to be my best friend; you can’t just l-leave me all --all alone.” He lurches forwards again, rocketing into Maedhros’ chest and finally the world falls back into place because Maedhros knows how to do this --to comfort and fix-- even if he could never manage to translate those skills to himself.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” He mumbles again, “I should’ve---” There are a million things Maedhros should have done, but when Fingon looks up at him, eyes brimming with tears and so, so blue, he forgets them all and thinks only of how Fingon hugs him tightly, a buffer against the cool air which is starting to make him shiver as it hits his sweat-soaked body. </p><p>“Nelyo,” Fingon says, yet again, as if his name is some kind of prayer keeping him rooted to the moment, “I want you to talk, maybe not to me or maybe not right now, but please, please, please, talk to someone. I never-- I couldn’t-- God, Maitimo, I really fucking love you, don’t go.” Maedhros’ mind is still a tangle, he is still lost in some dead end of the maze where everything is dark and he cannot see a way out, but Fingon deserves so much that Maedhros cannot supply, so the very least he can do is promise his cousin that he will not --will never-- jump. </p><p>It seems such a big concession, promising to live his own life. Why shouldn’t it be, when he is stuck in a corner with nothing but his own voice whispering in his ear that “Maitimo” is not worth it? How can he explain to his cousin that the reason he would end his own life is to make Fingon’s better?</p><p>Fingon  pulls him to his feet and Mae, though still a whole head taller than him, feels small and fragile as Fingon  leads the two of them away, descending once again and running from the cliffside and the empty cold sky beyond it.</p><p>He is still shivering when they make it back to the parking lot, climbing into the passenger seat of Fingon’s car and curling himself into the corner, wishing he were stronger, braver, better so that his cousin would never have to cry or worry or see him hiding from his own thoughts. </p><p>“Why?” He asks, finally, when it is clear that they are not leaving the lot, “Why are you torturing yourself loving me? I’m--” </p><p>Broken.<br/>
Nothing.<br/>
Useless.</p><p>Fingon seems to hear his thoughts, or at least to guess what he is thinking, because he reaches across the car, grabbing Maedhros' hand away from where it had been wrapped around his knees. Fin’s fingers are warm as they squeeze his hand and inch by inch Maedhros relaxes just enough to stop shivering. </p><p>“Don’t do that.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Call yourself broken.”</p><p>“I didn’t--”</p><p>“Yeah, you did. You thought it.” Fingon squeezes his hand again and his expression is so sincere and gentle that Maedhros wants to jump out of the car and run straight back up the mountain. How can he deserve someone as kind and beautiful and full of love as Fingon is? How can he possibly be worth even a tenth of that?</p><p>“Oh.” He mumbles, staring back at the floor, unable to look his cousin in the eyes.</p><p>“Maitimo, I don’t care if you think you’re worthless --wait, no, that came out wrong, I do care if you think that because it's not true but --what I was trying to say is; Think about everyone else who needs you. Curufinwë worships the ground you walk on, Macalaurë literally refused to go to Belize with that dude --Daeron?-- just because he was a jerk to you one time, and me!<br/>
“You’re the fucking reason we still live in this town, did I ever tell you that? Dad wanted to move to get away from your dad and I refused because that would mean moving away from you and I can’t; I can’t do that, Nelyo, I need you. You --you make me happy?” He says it like it is a question; a question Maedhros does not know the answer to and is afraid to find out. </p><p>But Fingon makes Maedhros happy, Maedhros has known that for years. Fingon and Káno and Tyelko and Moryo and Junior, all of them little candles held against the endless void of his mind. </p><p>“You make me happy,” Maedhros whispers back without his own consent, and Fingon gives him a small hopeful smile, full of so many unspoken words. </p><p>Fingon starts the car and the two of them drive away, leaving Mae’s car empty and once again alone in the lot. He wonders who will come to pick it up or if perhaps it will just sit there for the rest of time like his phone, hurled off the cliff edge to land somewhere far below, broken and alone in the trees. </p><p>Maedhros is glad it was the phone and not him. He is glad Fingon  is beside him, driving one-handed as Maedhros clutches his other, slowly shifting his still overly tense body from the far corner of his seat towards his cousin.</p><p>Somehow his thoughts land back again on Fin’s text and he wonders if Fingon remembers sending it. </p><p>Maedhros wishes he had said yes. There has never been a worse time to bring such a thing up, Fingon’s mouth is still set in a pursed line, his forehead creased as he squeezes Maedhros’ hand, so Maedhros keeps his mouth shut and lowers his head so that it rests on his cousin’s shoulder. He feels Fingon relax beneath him, a soft sigh escaping his cousin’s lips as Maedhros leans uncomfortably over the centre console, ignoring the corners and edges poking into his side. </p><p>“Where do you want to go?” Fingon  asks and Maedhros shrugs, which is awkward while positioned at an odd diagonal with his shoulder poking into Fin’s arm,</p><p>“I don’t really care. You’ll stay, right?” From underneath his lashes, Maedhros can see Fingon’s tremulous smile,</p><p>“I’ll stay as long as you want me,” He replies. Maedhros laughs, soft and breathless, the rumbling undertones of the car holding a pregnant silence at bay, and Maedhros looks out the window, to the brilliant Fin-blue sky beyond, and hears his father’s voice in his mind,</p><p>"You have all the tools you will ever need right now." Perhaps he is delirious, perhaps he has lost his mind or already jumped or is dreaming.</p><p>This is not real, he thinks, It can’t be real, can it? Fingon cannot want him forever and beyond. Fingon is free and wild and beautiful. The silence stretches on, and Maedhros feels wants to laugh.<br/>
There has never been a worse time. He does not have the words he wants. </p><p>The sky is bright and blue, and Fingon  is warm beneath his cheek.</p><p>“I want you forever.” He says, and Fingon is trembling. Maedhros is terrified. This is not real. He has done it wrong. He is worthless, useless, broken--</p><p>“Yes,” Fingon chokes out, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. I want to stay forever.” There are things Maedhros knows and so many more he does not. There are so many times he has not been good enough or brave enough or smart enough, and he desperately wants to close his eyes and end before forever comes, but when Fingon  parks the car illegally on the side of the road and kisses him, forever evaporates.</p><p>It is just Maedhros and the sky and Fingon, and they are enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. What It Means To Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been a while since I posted on this one, but I really felt like this story fit into the general chapter succession here so here we are! Enjoy my loves and know that the marriage proposal is coming next and then... a baby?</p><p> </p><p>ps I love comments, this is unbetaed so whether you notice a typo or just want to give some feedback, feel free to pass me words!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Winter air swirls around them, bringing with it small gusts of powdery snow that are picked up from the ground and thrown high into the air before falling in the sparkling sunlight. Beside Maedhros, Fingon lets out a sigh of contentment and snuggles a little closer into his side, sipping from the steaming hot cup in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is perfect Russo,” He says happily, smiling glowingly at Maedhros who feels his heart constrict with love inside his chest. Everything is perfect with Fingon there, but Maedhros doesn’t know how to say this, so he stays quiet, squeezing Fingon’s free hand in his own and smiles back, hoping that is enough. It is freezing sitting at the tiny cafe table, their chairs pushed close so that Fingon can slide himself beneath Maedhros’s arm to keep warm, his hat pulled down nearly over his eyes and his breath forming puffs of mist on the air. Maedhros feels steady, warm, almost happy as long as Fingon is there with him, each second stretching into eternity as Maedhros tries to find the words to explain all the emotions that are welling in his chest, a confusing mix of love and hope and fear that have blended until the edges of each emotion flow straight into the others and everything is a confusing mess of too much and not enough but it doesn’t matter as long as Fingon is there and Fingon is happy because Fingon is all that has ever mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nelyo?” Fingon says, snapping Maedhros out of his introspection, and he shifts, drawing Fingon closer to his side and making a soft noise of recognition,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking… about-- well, about us?” Maedhros freezes where he sits, all the quiet contentment disappearing as the fear in his chest rises in a terrible storm, blocking his throat and making his breath come shallow and quick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have.” It is not a question, because Maedhros already knows that this is about-- what this has to be about because it can only be a matter of time before Fingon realizes that whatever it is that they have been doing together, this tentative something that has made Maedhros’s heart swell, isn’t worth the effort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I have, and I-- I was thinking that maybe…” He trails off, looking up at Maedhros nervously and Maedhros realizes what he has to do. He can’t be the one to force Fingon to end this, he has to end it himself so that Fingon can walk away blameless because Fingon has always been too kind and he will not leave Maedhros unless Maedhros makes it clear that he can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Finno, please don’t worry about me, I understand if you want to-- to not do this anymore.” It comes out as a whisper, his voice cracking and desperate rather than the steady reassurance that Maedhros had intended it to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not-- Russo that’s not what I was going to say! I-- Oh Maitimo, please don’t do that to yourself, you’re hurting my favourite person.” Maedhros squeezes his eyes shut, sensing the hesitation in Fingon’s voice, the resignation, because Maedhros has inadvertently hurt him, has made him feel as if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stay with Maedhros. Taking a deep breath, Maedhros shakes his head. He has to be more forceful. He cannot think of himself, he has to think of Fingon, sweet beautiful Fingon who is too kind to know how to let Maedhros down softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Stop that.” Fingon’s brow wrinkles in confusion but Maedhros pulls his hand out of Fingon’s and hunches over in his seat, glaring down at the floor as Fingon whispers back,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Nelyo... I’m sorry… I didn’t-- did I say something wrong?” Maedhros can feel his heart breaking in his chest because this is Fingon and Fingon isn’t allowed to hurt, he needs to fix this, to make it better… but there’s nothing he can do to make it better because Fingon doesn’t --can’t want him. Not really. Not when he knows how broken Maedhros is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop-- stop pretending that you want me,” Maedhros mutters because it has to be said. He can’t keep hoping and hoping and hoping while knowing that eventually this… whatever it is, flirting? Joking? Teasing? Will have to end. Fingon deserves so much more than what he is, even on his best days, and Maedhros knows that intimately. Fingon has dated and loved and found a life in the years since that one tantalizing kiss that haunts his dreams each night while Maedhros has… he has done nothing. He has stayed alone the way he is meant to be and tried to deny that every time he sees Fingon his heart flutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingon reaches out, gently tugging Maedhros’s chin up so that they can meet each other’s eyes and smiles far more understandingly than Maedhros deserves. Cringing away, Maedhros tries to fold in on himself, but Fingon’s hands are steady and warm and he so wants to lean into their touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nelyo,” Fingon says softly, “I do want you.” Maedhros takes a shuddering breath and grabs Fingon’s hand tightly,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-- but you </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He whispers brokenly, “How can you when-- when I-- you deserve more Finno. I can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> who you want me to be. I can’t be what you</span>
  <em>
    <span> deserve.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m not enough Finno. I can’t be enough.” Fingon pulls back and Maedhros wants to cry because he knows that Fingon has finally seen it: that one final flaw that will send him running away never to return and Maedhros will be left all alone-- but that is how it is supposed to be. Maedhros is supposed to be alone where he can’t hurt anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nelyo…” Fingon’s words are so quiet that Maedhros almost cannot hear him and his voice trembles as he grabs both of Maedhros’s hands in his and Maedhros is confused because why isn’t he running? He should be running away and never coming back, why does he still care? Why is he still here? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nelyo you’ve always been more than enough for me.” Fingon whispers and Maedhros’s breath catches in his throat,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-- No! Finno--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please listen Russo, please. You-- You’re… so good. I know you don’t see it and it breaks my heart but you’re… so beautiful, inside and outside. You always know what to say when I’m upset and you are so selfless and kind. I-- I wish I could make you see how wonderful you are. I wish I could make you feel the same way I do about you because then you would see that anyone would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>lucky</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have you. I feel lucky every day. And-- and Russo, I don’t care what you think-- well I do, just not… not right now. I’m here for good. You’re not getting rid of me. I love you Russandol, and you can’t stop me.” Fingon is glaring accusingly at him now, squeezing his hands so tightly that Maedhros fears his fingers might break but he doesn’t care because Fingon… Fingon loves him and Fingon isn’t leaving and--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh… Oh, Finno.” Maedhros chokes out, tears clouding his vision and snaking down his cheeks in tiny freezing lines, but they aren’t tears of sadness they are tears of joy because Fingon is real and he is here and he is saying all the words that Maedhros has wanted to hear for so long but has been too afraid to ask for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you-- you wanted to go away?” He mumbles, confused and so desperately in love that he is afraid he might forget how to breathe and Fingon reaches up, cradling his face in both his hands and drawing Maedhros close, their freezing breath mingling in the air as he presses a kiss to Maedhros’s cheek,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, Russo I never want to leave. I want to be yours and for you to be mine forever and ever… I love you Maitimo, with my whole heart. I’m here forever… as long as you will take me.” Maedhros sniffs and reaches up, wiping at his eyes as even more tears overflow from his eyes, freezing as they fall onto his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too Finno. You’re so-- so good and-- and I love you lots.” Fingon smiles and leans forwards, his lips meeting Maedhros’s and even though they’ve kissed before, this time it feels real, not like a tease or a joke. Fingon’s hands move from his cheeks to tangle in his hair and Maedhros’s mouth falls open as Fingon moves his tongue hesitantly to push against Maedhros’s lips, wordlessly asking if this is okay, and --oh-- it is more than okay. Maedhros has never felt so safe and so loved and so right because this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fingon</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Fingon is good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they finally pull apart, Fingon’s eyes are sparkling in the snowy sunlight and his hat sits askew on his head, braids slipping out from beneath the brim. Maedhros’s breath catches in his throat as Fingon’s eyes, so beautiful and bright blue, glow with happiness and Maedhros knows, he knows that this is real and that the joy he sees in Fingon’s eyes is because of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finno?” He mumbles, uncoordinated and reeling with the sheer amount of love bursting in his chest, and Fingon nuzzles into his neck, humming,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did-- did you mean that? Forever?” Pulling back, Fingon looks him in the eyes seriously and nods,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forever, Russo. I want to wake up every day of my life next to you knowing that we belong together and that no one can tear us apart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” Maedhros is speechless. He doesn’t know what to say or do, but for once he isn’t worried that he has to respond. Fingon knows. Fingon knows perhaps better than Maedhros does and he understands and cares and it is beautiful. Fingon is beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think-- I think I would like that.” He replies finally, “Forever. Just us. Together.” Fingon smiles again and it is like the sun has come out from behind a cloud. The wind blows sparkling gusts of snow up into the air around them, blindingly bright in the sunlight, and Maedhros leans forwards, kissing Fingon again, and thinking quietly to himself that forever will not possibly be long enough for him to stop loving Fingon.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Perfect To Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a morning together turns into something more when Maedhros unwittingly lets a confession slip that he has been keeping secret for a long time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It still feels strange sometimes, waking up with Fingon by his side. Too good to be true, too warm, too perfect. Cool morning air drifts in through the open window and Fingon murmurs in his sleep, curling closer against Maedhros’s side and letting out a little sigh, a small smile curling across his mouth as he nuzzles against Maedhros’s shoulder. Outside the window, a small bird lands on the big oak tree and cocks his head to the side, watching Maedhros curiously before opening his beak to sing. It is peaceful and beautiful in this house --their house. Maedhros shifts, scooping Fingon up under one arm and pulling him closer so that Fingon’s head rests on top of his chest, a heavy but reassuring weight that rises and falls with Maedhros’s breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Beyond the window, a second bird joins the first and they sing back and forth, creating a melody that weaves together the separate themes of each song to create something new and beautiful. It is quiet, quieter than it ever was in the house that Maedhros still calls home in the privacy of his mind. No brothers live here to wake up at the crack of dawn and stomp down the stairs, arguing with each other. No piano to wake up to the soft sounds of Maglor’s compositions in the middle of the night. No children who appear in the doorway with runny noses and tearful expressions having just escaped the depths of a nightmare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes it feels lonely when Fingon has left for work and Maedhros is alone with nothing but his own mind. Sometimes he still drives across town without warning and appears at the front door of that house that is still home, just to sit in the warm living room on the soft brown leather couch and listen to the soft sound of the Ambarussa laughing together as they play soccer in the back yard. They, at least, are still young enough to create the noise Maedhros longs for, even if all his other brothers have moved out or grown too old to enjoy the world the way they did when they were young. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Maedhros is happy. Happier than he can ever remember being. He has a life and love and he feels freer than he ever has in the past. Each day brings something new and beautiful so that even when the bad moments come --and they do come-- Maedhros no longer wonders if he will ever escape again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingon nuzzles into his chest, stretching slightly and pressing a messy kiss to Maedhros’s chest humming in the back of his throat. Flopping onto his back, Fingon yawns hugely and smiles over at Maedhros, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of hair behind Maedhros’s ear,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Morning, babe.” He mumbles sleepily, and Maedhros finds himself smiling widely in response, unable to control the rush of happiness that fills his chest whenever Fingon is near him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning. I love you,” he whispers in response, afraid to break the beautiful silence that hangs heavy over the morning air. Letting out a long contented sigh, Fingon wiggles himself up so that he and Maedhros are face to face on the pillows and reaches up, cupping Maedhros’s cheek with one soft hand. Maedhros tilts his face, leaning into the touch, an involuntary smile curling over his lips. This is how Fingon makes him feel, safe and loved and beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.” Fingon says seriously, moving forwards and pressing his lips to Maedhros’s. He tastes musty, almost stale, but Maedhros couldn’t care less. This is Fingon and Maedhros loves everything that Fingon has to offer him. He always has and he always will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Letting out a little groan of effort, Fingon pushes himself into a sitting position and runs a hand through his tight braids, shaking his head back and forth so that the gold weaved into his hair catches the sunlight and reflects tiny spots of light onto the walls around them. He is so beautiful that Maedhros’s breath catches in his throat and words fail him as he sits up and captures Fingon’s bare torso in a hug, nosing into his shoulder and murmuring,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finno,” His voice hoarse and rough from sleep, and Fingon leans back against him, allowing his head to fall onto Maedhros’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Breakfast?” He asks, “We have muffins and that new Cuban coffee that your dad sent over.” Maedhros nods and slides out of the bed, grabbing a sweatshirt and a pair of socks and tugging the clothes on before making his way to the cold kitchen. Fingon lingers in the bedroom, searching through a drawer of his dresser, so Maedhros is the one who warms the muffins in the microwave and pours the coffee into two mugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingon appears in the doorway, tucking something into the pocket of his pants, and Maedhros smiles, motioning him over to the table. It isn’t anything fancy, but it doesn’t need to be for Maedhros to be happy. Once, he would have worried about this being good enough for Fingon, about himself being enough for Fingon, but no longer. Fingon has made it clear enough for Maedhros to never doubt it again that he is loved and that he is enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingon kisses his cheek and squeezes his hand, drawing his chair close to Maedhros’s as he always does so that the table settings are hopelessly asymmetrical but they are able to hold hands as comfortable silence stretches between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Russo?” Fingon says all of a sudden, and Maedhros swallows a gulp of scalding hot coffee a little bit too quickly, his eyes watering as he chokes out a strangled,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Fingon laughs, his eyes alight with love as he pats Maedhros’s back and Maedhros blushes lightly, embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go for a walk around Lake Mithrim today… just for old times sake.” Maedhros pauses for a moment, thinking about it. It still seems so recently that Fingon’s gangly pre-teen form appeared at the door of his family house every other day for those walks when they would escape everything and pretend the world just consisted of the two of them in the warm summer breeze that always came from the lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he finally agrees, “I would like that. Just the two of us again.” Fingon smiles, squeezing his hand and pressing another kiss to his cheek,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s always just the two of us now, Nelyo.” He reminds Maedhros, and Maedhros smiles sheepishly, nodding and trying to explain what he means,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… it’s different now. And that lake --maybe this is stupid but it always feels special when it’s just the two of us there. Like there’s no one else in the world.” Fingon nods and leans over, resting his head on Maedhros’s shoulder and murmuring,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There never has been anyone else for me.” Maedhros smiles, love overflowing in his chest and leaving him blinded by the beauty that is Fingon’s heart, unable to move or to speak except to promise that it is the same for him, that it has always been this way, that Fingon is the sun around which his earth revolves, and it is true. He loves Fingon more than he could possibly explain in words, more than he even understands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It slips out without Maedhros even really realizing he has said it, amidst the vast amount of love that he is trying to put into words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finno, I love you. I want to marry you. You’re-- you’re the most important thing in my life.” Maedhros might have continued, might have spent the rest of his life enumerating the many reasons he loves Fingon, but Fingon has noticed what Maedhros has not has heard what Maedhros never meant to let slip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You-- Maitimo… you want to marry me?” Fingon says unsteadily, his hand clutching Maedhros’s suddenly much more tightly than it had been before, and Maedhros freezes, his words dying in his throat. Does he? Even as he asks the question to himself, Maedhros already knows the answer. Of course, he wants to marry Fingon. Fingon is the other half of his soul. He loves Fingon more than anything else in the world. Still, he hadn’t meant for it to come out this way. Not over muffins and artisanal Cuban coffee that Fëanor forced into his arms as he left their family home three days previously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Maedhros admits in a whisper, “I’ve wanted to marry you since… since… since a long time ago.” In fact, Maedhros isn’t even sure when he first had the thought, probably far before it would be decent to admit. Fingon’s hand loosens on his slightly, and his mouth falls open into a little “o” before he finally scowls and pokes Maedhros in the chest,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Russo, that’s not fair!” Maedhros pulls away, his hand falling out of Fingon’s, and fear rears up in his chest, stronger than it has been in years. He has ruined everything. Fingon doesn’t want this. He is stupid and worthless and--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was going to ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>! But you… you! Fuck you Nelyafinwë Maitimo. I wanted to be the one to ask.” And with that, Fingon reaches into his pocket as Maedhros sits there speechless and pulls out a little black velvet box, passing it over to Maedhros with an absolutely outraged expression on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, go ahead, open it.” Maedhros reaches out with trembling hands and plucks the box from Fingon’s fingers, carefully prying it open. A gasp is torn from his throat as he catches a glimpse of what is inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Oh, Finno.” He cries, and there are tears running down his cheeks, but they aren’t sad tears they are happy tears and Maedhros drops the little box onto the table as he pulls Fingon out of his chair where he is still sitting looking extremely put out with his arms crossed over his chest and wraps his arms tightly around his boyfriend’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finno… I don’t have a ring, I didn’t think… I didn’t mean… oh it’s beautiful. I love you. I always will love you. You’re-- you’re-- oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finno</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Fingon bites the inside of his lip, clearly trying to keep the petulant pout on his face, but after a moment he gives up and a smile slips across his lips as his arms wind around Maedhros to tangle in his hair, tilting his head up to press their lips together in a soft kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, may I take that as a yes?” Fingon finally asks, and Maedhros laughs, his smile irremovable as he replies,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I was the one who asked.” Fingon pouts and slaps his chest,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A feat for which I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to forgive you.” Maedhros shrugs, feeling so warm inside that he doesn’t even care,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can live with that,” he admits, and Fingon smiles hugely, kissing him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d better. I can’t have my fiancé suddenly dropping dead from guilt.” Fiancé. Maedhros can’t even believe that he is hearing the word. This can’t be happening, some part of his brain tells him, this is too perfect, too good, you don’t deserve this, but that part is finally, finally small enough that Maedhros can ignore it, content with the knowledge that this is real and that Fingon loves him. Loves him! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Picking up the tiny ring box again, Maedhros pulls out the thin band of gold and places it on his finger, wiggling it in front of Fingon’s face gleefully,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” he says, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Is that enough for you?” Fingon grins and shakes his head, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Never. I think I’ll have to hear it at least a thousand more times.” Maedhros laughs again, feeling giddy with joy and happier than he has ever felt before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“However many times you need.” He promises, “I don’t care. I love you. I want to marry you a thousand times. I--” He breaks off and kisses Fingon, unable to resist his fiancé’s lips any longer, his toes wiggling with delight at being able to think that word. The world seems to be spinning around him in heightened colour, everything narrowing to Fingon, the sun glinting off the gold in his dark hair, the beautiful blue of his eyes, the faint blush on the warm chestnut skin of his face, his lips, swollen from kisses and slightly parted as he watches Maedhros, and Maedhros knows all of a sudden that this is exactly how things are meant to be. That everything leading up to this moment was worth it if only he gets to keep Fingon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finno,” he whispers, and Fingon, breathlessly hums, leaning forwards and pressing their foreheads together,</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wants to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I want this forever, I can’t believe that you’re mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>; but Fingon already knows all of these things, and Maedhros really doesn’t have the ability to form coherent words with the sheer amount of love that is expanding inside of him, so instead he says simply, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want everyone to know. I want them all to know that I am yours.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>